Title: Herbal Tea
Author: Apatheia
Pairing: Marluxia/Demyx
Rating: PG-13/Teen
Summary: Marluxia had a feeling he was going to have fun with this one.
Disclaimer: It all belongs to Square Enix and Disney. Please don't sue; the only thing you would get is a few dollars in change and some Kingdom Hearts tee-shirts.

Herbal Tea

Marluxia scrutinized the damage wrought on his garden with keen blue eyes, his expression darkening with each travesty he noticed. With gloved hands curled into fists, he clenched his jaw and took a jerky step forward. As soon as he had stepped foot into his garden, he had known something had gone horribly awry even without seeing the mass destruction done to his pride and joy.

However, no sixth sense could have possibly prepared him for this.

The new concrete pathway was streaked with dirt, clumps of the dark brown substance strewn about the surrounding area carelessly. Petals littered the surrounding grass by the dozens, each singed around the edges. Several plants had been torn at their roots, others were left in charred remains, and some were missing completely. It appeared as though Hell itself had thrown a party while he had been away on his mission.

A strangled sound escaped past clenched teeth as he took another jerky step, blue eyes taking in the horrifying sight once more. He could practically feel the plants' cries of pain reverberate within the blood that flowed through his veins, their outrage and desire for retribution almost tangible. Marluxia knew all of this – could feel it better than he could feel his own existence – and yet one question constantly plagued his mind.

Just what the hell had happened here?

Marluxia already had a vague idea of what had transpired in his absence as he stooped down beside an uprooted rose bush. Gloved fingers reached out to brush gently against soot covered petals, serving only to taint the remnants of their beauty. His gaze wandered from the bush and took note of a large scorch mark marred the otherwise perfect grass several feet away.

Pulling his hand away as though he had been burned, Marluxia abruptly straightened and stormed towards the door. There was only one person – or rather, one Nobody – who was foolish enough to tamper with his garden.

Axel would suffer dearly for his mistake if Marluxia had any say in it.

--

With a weary sigh Marluxia pushed the door to the kitchen open, gloved fingers combing through his rusty-pink hair in a sign of pent up frustration. The action only made his hair look messier, not that he really cared. He had searched the entire castle from top to bottom and had found not a trace of Axel anywhere. Much to his displeasure, inquiries had also produced no clues as to VIII's whereabouts. In the end, Marluxia had decided to call the search off for now. Odds were that Axel was merely hiding in another world in fear of his wrath. If that were the case, then Marluxia had no absolutely no problem waiting for his return.

Letting the door drift shut behind him, Marluxia could not help the slightly sadistic smirk that flitted across his features at the thought of the numerous ways he would pay Axel back. Number VIII had never had the pleasure of meeting some of Marluxia's more questionable plants, the most notable a mutated Venus flytrap. Perhaps when the red head returned he could show him just why he wasn't one to be trifled with. Maybe then he would get some respect from the bastard.

A small bubble drifted past his face, popping and effectively snapping Marluxia from his violent train of thought. His body tensed and he instantly scanned the kitchen, the energy required to summon his scythe pooling to his right hand.

"Hey Marluxia, would you like something to drink?" Demyx asked cheerfully from his perch atop the counter. A small cup of something warm – most likely tea - was held loosely in one gloveless hand, small puffs of steam carrying to the air. The other hand gripped the neck of his sitar gently, keeping the instrument balanced in his lap.

The blond man didn't bother to wait for an answer. Instead he set his tea aside and reached up into the open cabinet above his head, pulling out another cup.

Marluxia arched a brow slightly in question even as a small sneer curled his lips. He had always found IX inferior to him in just about every way and certainly had no desire to be anywhere near the other man. Had he known that Demyx was in the kitchen, he certainly would not have come here. Was it possible that Marluxia had been so deep in thought that he had failed to notice his presence? The idea didn't sit well with him - he prided himself on being constantly alert and having a good handle on any given situation.

He was half-tempted to leave right then, and the only thing stopping him was the fact that playing nice with Demyx might provide some benefits in the future. Anyone able to elude his senses deserved at least some credit, so perhaps the other man was not as useless as first impressions had led Marluxia to believe. Or perhaps Demyx possessed some information on Axel's whereabouts.

Either way, Marluxia decided to stay and it was with great reluctance that he walked over to the counter.

Demyx grinned, green eyes dancing with joy, and handed him a cup filled to the brim with a murky liquid before turning his attention to his sitar. Calloused fingers set to adjusting the strings, making them stretch taut across the instrument. Marluxia watched with a faintly curious expression, fingers tapping lightly against the side of his cup.

"Pardon me for interrupting, but what are you doing?" he questioned politely, blue eyes lingering on the tightened strings before lifting to meet Demyx's surprised gaze. When first meeting a foreign target, it was key one appeared polite and at least somewhat friendly. It caused the target to drop their guard and made the eventual betrayal all the sweeter.

Demyx glanced down at his instrument and gave the strings an experimental strum, wincing slightly as sour notes filled the air. "I'm trying to tune my sitar." His voice was soft, almost inaudible, as his attention became focused solely on the beloved instrument in his grasp. Brow furrowed in concentration and teeth nibbling on his bottom lip lightly, his fingers moved to slightly loosen the strings.

The sounds resembled a dying animal more than music, Marluxia noticed with an amused smirk. The smirk faded into a frown when he realized that the blond was paying him no attention whatsoever, making it painfully obvious that if he wanted answers he would be forced to wait. Biting back an annoyed sigh, he shifted the cup within his grasp before bringing it to his lips, taking a deep drink.

It took every ounce of his self control not to spit the mouthful of liquid right back out.

With a grimace, he forced himself to swallow and shot a dark look at Demyx. "Just what exactly is it you put in my cup, Demyx?" For a moment, Marluxia assumed that he would get no response from the blond – he was hardly paying attention to his surroundings, after all.

Demyx gave a cry of triumph when a haunting bittersweet melody filled the air. His eyes slid shut in pure bliss and a soft hum of approval rumbled deep in his chest as his fingers continued to coax the heart wrenching music from his sitar. Pity neither of them had a heart.

Marluxia sighed impatiently, his expression darkening. "IX!" The only answer he got was a lopsided mischievous grin. Seeing as how the other man was at least listening to him somewhat, he continued. "What is in the cup?" He forced himself to sound polite, his tone lazy. It was as if he had all the time in the world.

The haunting tune quickly changed into something bright and lively, now so fast paced that Marluxia could not have kept up with the beat even if he wanted. One green eye peered up at him, depths dancing with something akin to enjoyment.

"Herbal tea," Demyx answered in a light and casual tone. "It's supposed to be really good-"

Marluxia couldn't have thrown the cup faster if he tried.

In an instant the cup shattered against the wall near the door, its content staining the pristine white paint a dirty brown as shards of glass flew everywhere. The music suddenly stopped as the tea slid down the wall in messy streams only to pool at the floor. Marluxia gazed at the new mess with a smug grin before turning his eyes onto a startled Demyx.

Any patience Marluxia may have had was gone.

He brought his face close to Demyx's, the smug grin transforming with ease into an almost pleasant smile. "You gave me herbal tea…?" His voice was soft, deceptive; a nice blend of kindness and masculine charm that had fooled many.

Marluxia's hand ghosted across Demyx's cheek, gloved fingertips brushing against smooth skin and lightly stroking dirty blond hair. Smile widening, he closed the distance between them until their foreheads rested against each other gently. A hint of satisfaction entered his calculating gaze when he noticed Demyx lick his lips nervously.

"Yeah. Axel told me-" A gloved hand wrapped around his throat tightly, effectively cutting of his words.

"You've seen Axel today, Demyx?" Marluxia's tone never changed, still as soft and coaxing as before. Almost absently, he noted how Demyx's eyes darted over to his sitar, hand inching along the counter with the intent of snatching. With a small chuckle, Marluxia's free hand came crashing down on his. "Now, Demyx, answer the question," he said sweetly, although his intentions were anything but sweet.

He didn't really know why Demyx didn't just summon forth a dark rift and run, nor did he particularly care. All that mattered to him was the information the blond held – nothing more, nothing less. Green eyes filled with panic, Demyx opened his mouth to speak but managed to only produce a wheezing sound. Marluxia loosened his grip on the other man's throat reluctantly.

"He came in earlier with a whole jug of it. Said he got it from some place in another world and that I could have it," Demyx explained hurriedly. Despite the fact that he was at another's mercy – Marluxia could have easily snapped his neck by now, if he so desired – he managed a weak grin.

Marluxia's eyes narrowed slightly. "And did he happen to mention what world?"

His only response was the slightest shake of the head; an answer Marluxia was not too happy with. All pleasantness was gone from his face as his grip on Demyx's neck tightened considerably. Instantly, he could feel the younger man's body stiffen in surprise. He pulled his head away, a small sneer tugging at his lips as he watched Demyx try to breathe around the new obstacle.

Marluxia never noticed Demyx's free hand press against the counter top until it was too late or the dark rift that formed beneath his body until his weight became much too heavy to bear. Demyx was hanging halfway in the darkness, Marluxia's grip still tight around his neck, and Marluxia was starting to slip in after him.

He was by no means a weak man but even he could not manage to hold someone who was a few inches taller and a good ten pounds or so heavier than his weapon. Marluxia was left with two options: He could let Demyx go or fall in after him. While neither was an appealing option – he was probably enjoying himself more than he should - he released his death grip on Demyx's neck. Sighing softly, he pulled away from the rift and watched it close with a small frown.

The blond was proving to be more trouble than what Marluxia had first anticipated.

Not only had he failed to extract the desired information but he had allowed Demyx to escape as well. Both failures were something new to him, and he didn't particularly care for the unwanted setbacks hindering his plans. Clearly he needed to work on honing his skills if he had gotten this pathetic and useless.

With a small sound of disgust, Marluxia nearly turned to leave when a flash of color caught his gaze. Blue eyes narrowing slightly, he shuffled over to the discarded sitar lying on the counter forgotten.

Gloved fingers reached out and hesitantly stroked along the instruments neck, only to instantly pull back. Marluxia waited for some form of defense to lash out at him. When nothing happened – figures that Demyx was too dumb to affix a proper defense mechanism on his weapon – he smirked and grabbed a hold of the sitar.

The instrument was heavier than his scythe surprisingly and Marluxia nearly lost his balance thanks to the unexpected weight. It was a wonder how Demyx managed to carry the blasted thing, let alone fight with it. With a small sneer he propped the sitar against one of his shoulders and headed back towards his garden, making sure to stomp on the discarded tea cup along the way.

Perhaps he would get that information out of Demyx after all.

--

A faint look of irritation flitted across his features as Marluxia tucked several slightly damp strands of his hair behind his ear, dirty fingers instantly went back to digging a small trench around the base of a rose bush. It probably would have been easier for him to use some sort of gardening tool but Marluxia had always been fond of handling his garden with his own bare hands.

The task of digging didn't take as long as he anticipated and soon enough, Marluxia was filling the trench to the brim with fresh fertilizer. It was as his hands were busy smoothing the fertilizer out that a strange pulse echoed throughout his body. Marluxia stilled, focusing on deciphering the unfamiliar feeling.

It seemed that his plants had taken the initiative to warn him of Demyx's arrival.

With a pleased smirk, Marluxia stood and wiped his hands clean on his black pants just as Demyx broke through the surrounding fauna. Calculating blue eyes watched as the blond stopped dead in his tracks and doubled over, gasping for breath.

Marluxia found himself growing increasingly annoyed as the minutes passed. Already he could feel his patience beginning to wane. Folding his arms across his chest stiffly, his smirk faded into a disapproving frown and he gave an almost inaudible sigh. "Are you quite finished yet, Demyx?" Green eyes glanced up in answer to his question, narrowing into what Marluxia could only assume was meant to be an intimidating glare.

"You stole my sitar," Demyx accused as he straightened. His glare was unwavering even when his lips formed a child-like pout.

Marluxia was certain that the younger man meant for the action to be intimidating, although the pout ruined any chance of that. It was a widely known fact that Demyx was not one to be overly confrontational, thus any sad attempts at intimidation were mere bluffs on his part. He usually chose to solve problems with words, not violence.

Marluxia had already begun counting the minutes until Demyx began to try to talk the location of the missing sitar out of him.

"Did I, now?" Marluxia's voice took on a vaguely amused tone that bordered on teasing, even as his mind worked out possible reactions and ways to use those reactions to his advantage. Anger, or at least something resembling it, was what he was aiming to get. Anger made most people easier to manipulate, and it was with that belief set firmly in mind that he allowed a fake smile to creep across his face.

His action seemed to have served its purpose; Demyx's pout deepened as his 'intimidating' glare intensified. "You know you did, Marluxia. Now quit being mean and give her back."

Marluxia's expression turned completely innocent, quite the feat considering he was anything but that. "You're free to grab a shovel and dig 'her' up anytime you so desire," he said, arms falling back to his sides. Absently, he shoved his hands in his pockets as he watched for Demyx's reaction.

Demyx's glare was gone in an instant, his entire body going still. "…You buried her!" He sounded horrified at the mere suggestion of such a thing, only proving to Marluxia that the sitar was his weakness. It became quite apparent that lugging that damn instrument back to his rooms had been a smart move on his part.

"With great pleasure."

Every word he said, each move he made, was a calculated attempt to push Demyx to the point of breaking. It shouldn't be too hard; Number IX was considerably weaker than the others members both mentally and physically, after all, and claimed to love his sitar more than life itself. It only made sense that he would do anything for the stupid thing.

It came as no surprise to Marluxia when he saw all fight leave Demyx's body.

A smirk on his face and all deception gone, Marluxia walked gracefully over to Demyx with the intentions of taking that which he had worked so hard to retrieve. One bare hand still slightly dirty from his gardening came up and gently caressed Demyx's cheek. The action, which had been done only to see just how much the not-so-mighty had fallen, earned a dark glare.

While he may never admit to it, Marluxia was surprised. Perhaps he hadn't broken the younger man after all. The realization caused his smirk to grow and he lightly draped an arm over Demyx's shoulders, steering him towards the exit.

"Why don't you and I have a little chat, Demyx?"

Marluxia had a feeling he was going to have fun with this one.